


Temptation at the Gala

by Trinket



Category: Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice
Genre: Batsupes Secret Valentines Exchange 2021, Bottom Clark Kent, Daddy Kink, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:54:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29693262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trinket/pseuds/Trinket
Summary: This was written for the Batsupes Secret Valentines Exchange event of 2021.1. Prompt:    DCEU: BVS - Bruce and Clark bang in an empty room at Luthor's gala*Rating of Fic Preferred: *    ExplicitUp to Four Deal-Breakers:    Bottom Bruce, choking, deepthroatingI especially enjoy:    Daddy kink, d/s dynamics, mirror sex, rough sex
Relationships: Bruce Wayne/Clark Kent
Comments: 11
Kudos: 69
Collections: Batsupes Secret Valentines Exchange 2021





	Temptation at the Gala

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Firondoiel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firondoiel/gifts).



Clark blinked at the words spewing from the man's mouth. He cocked his head, and wasn’t sure whether to smile, to frown, or do something else. And the way  _ Wayne _ smirked while dragging his eyes over him felt  _ filthy. _

His own heart skipped a beat when those eyes, just for a moment, caught his.

Clark noticed the host of the gala coming their way, but a woman stepped in front of him. He could see the slight curve of a lip, like a sneer.

Wayne walked away from Clark, but he wasn’t finished with his question. Sure he’d gotten  _ something, _ even if it was only disdain in regard to Superman. So, the man didn’t like his alter ego. That wasn’t that unexpected. People were angry, and they had a right to be. He couldn’t blame them.

So, he followed Wayne away from the growing crowd around Luthor, even if the man’s lips twitched and his eyes narrowed. Just for a second, if even that. Maybe no one else had noticed, but he had.

  
  
Not something he wished to dwell on, when Wayne was a mystery that got the attention of the reporter in him.

He walked down the hall. Down steps as he tried to keep a bit of distance between them.

As he reached the last step however, a hand reached out, grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him into a side door. An empty room. It appeared unused for the most part. 

He could have stilled in the hall and become an unmovable object. Except he wasn’t in the suit. The only part of it he did have was in one of his pockets. The shield. Usually he wore the entire suit beneath his clothing, but tonight he’d decided not to.

Letting out a gasp as he was pressed flush against the door, he heard a click behind him.

  
  
He stared up, just a little. Wayne was just a little taller. “What’re you doing?”

Clark watched as the man’s lips quirked into a cocky lewd smile as those dark eyes swept over him.

“You were following me. I hoped you might,” he growled light and playful against his ear while grinding his hips against Clark’s.

His eyes widened at the contact as he felt the billionaire playboy’s telltale arousal against his thigh. Even before the man’s clothed erection pressed against Clark’s own clothed cock he felt his traitorous body respond with a twitch of his prick.

He gnashed his teeth together and tried to smile through the flush of his flesh. “Excuse me, Mr. Wayne, I… I think you mi-might be under a mis-misconception…,” he gulped and shuddered as those hips rocked forward against him.

Clark couldn’t recall the last time he’d gone weak in the knees, like his joints and bones had turned to jello. How long had it been since he’d gotten laid!? Because this,  _ this _ surely couldn’t be normal. Not for him. But for Bruce Wayne, it probably was. The man had a reputation and it wasn’t a good one.

Before he could stop the man, he felt a hand tug at his shirt, pull it from his pants, and then the flat of a palm against his abdominal muscles.

  
  
“What was that you were saying, Clark?”

He shuddered at the way his name rolled off the man’s tongue. He gulped and tried to step aside, even though he was terribly hard.

“I… I don’t do one night stands.”

“Who said anything about a one night stand, Mister Kent?” Wayne practically purred the words and caught Clark’s head in his hands.

Then Bruce Wayne’s mouth covered his in a light caress. Followed by the swipe of the tip of his tongue against Clark’s lips.

Clark held onto the man’s shoulders, though he had no need to do so.  _ Fuck. _ He felt hot and hard, and ached in ways he hadn’t for so long.

Their tongues tangled. Wayne lifted one of Clark’s legs up and pressed closer to him between his legs.

He hadn’t thought the playboy would or could be so strong. 

  
  
Clark didn’t think he should be doing this, but it had been awhile since anyone had shown that much interest in him. Sure there were the Superman fetishists, but they hadn’t been interested in  _ Clark. _ Not even as a one-night stand, not that he was interested in that. But maybe, just this once, even if it was the latest notch on Wayne’s post.

  
  
His hands, trembling with need moved to the zipper of Wayne’s pants only for the man to tug on his wrists and hold them down in one hand. He could hear the rustle of cloth, the slide of a zipper. And then felt the way his own pants were tugged down.   


  
A warm hand wrapped around his cock and he tilted his head back with a strangled moan.

  
  
“That’s it baby, get wet for me.” Wayne’s thumb rubbed around the slit of Clark’s cockhead.

  
  
Clark shuddered and turned his gaze to stare at the mirror across the room. His face flushed crimson and he worried his bottom lip between his teeth.

  
  
It didn’t go unnoticed and Wayne swung them ninety degrees. “You like what you see, baby boy?”

No one had ever called him  _ that _ and certainly not in this situation, but his balls drew back and his cock twitched.

  
  
Bruce Wayne smirked, “I can tell you do. Think you can be a good boy for Daddy?”

  
  
Clark gulped. He wanted to say yes, but was too flustered to say a word. But seconds ticked by, precious time, and then he gave a small nod.   


  
“Good boy,” Wayne whispered against his ear before tugging Clark’s pants down to his ankles and lifting him bodily up. As if Clark weighed practically nothing. 

  
  
How the hell could this man be  _ that _ strong!? Did he have a personal trainer hidden somewhere. Although the man probably had an in home gym or something like that.

It just made him all the more hot under the collar as he was lifted and the man held him under his knees by his elbows.

  
  
He flushed at the sight of himself in the mirror. “What’re you doing?”

“I think you know, baby boy. Letting you get a good look at yourself. All flush and hard with need. Bet you’ll soon be begging Daddy for his cock, won’t you?”

Clark wondered if the man was trying to upset him with the Daddy Kink, or if he was testing him. It wasn’t everyone’s thing. Clark hadn’t thought it was his, but this man was altering so many perceptions he’d had about himself and in such a small span of time.

  
  
Maybe he really should just let whatever happened, happen.

  
  
Closing his eyes he moaned, “Please.”

  
  
“Please, what, son?” Bruce’s voice was rough against his ear and the scrape of stubble against his neck had him shuddering.

  
  
“Please, Daddy, show me how to be your good boy.”

Bruce growled out, “Fuck.”

Clark bit back a chuckle and groaned when he was placed back down over a desk in front of yet another floor to ceiling mirror. One of the only pieces of furniture in the mostly bare and likely unused room.

  
  
“I can’t hold you up and get you ready at the same time. How many men have you let fuck this gorgeous ass?”

Clark groaned when he felt the tap of the man’s hand against one ass cheek.

  
  
“N-none.”

“Virgin?”

“No,” he shook his head. He was far from that. He’d been with women. And the men, well they’d never gotten as far as penetration.

  
  
“Oh Fuck, I get to defile my baby boy, do I?”

“Y… yes Daddy.”

He heard the tearing of a small package and then the cool slicked finger prodding him against the rim of his anus.

  
  
“Breath for me Clark.”

He took a shuddering breath and slowly exhaled as that finger stroked around his hole and slowly pushed in past the ring of muscles. Not that it would have hurt, but he wasn’t sure how comfortable it would have been for either of them if the billionaire playboy hadn’t been prepared.

Clark didn’t want to think about who might have caught the man's eye tonight if he hadn’t been there. He still didn’t believe him about this  _ not _ being a one-night stand.

His hands held onto the edge of the desk as Bruce worked in a second finger. His thighs shook and he tried to stop moving. What if he broke something? What if he somehow hurt Bruce Wayne!? Although his self-training with small plugs hadn’t resulted in much harm after a few trial and errors. But that had always only been as large as a couple of fingers. And this man had a huge cock. No wonder he was a playboy and considered a stud by those who had and had not had the honor of sharing a night with him.

  
  
One thing he knew, as he cried out when those fingers curled against something inside him, he could never, ever tell anyone about  _ this. _

“That’s right baby boy, make all the noise you want.”

  
  
He gulped. “What about the… the gala?”

“They’re pretty loud themselves, aren’t they? They won't hear you over the sound of their own voices.” Bruce chuckled and then pushed a third finger into Clark.

  
  
A shiver ran down his back as he could no longer keep his hips from moving of their own accord. He just tried not to let his movement get too out of control.

  
  
“That’s right, boy, fuck yourself on my fingers. Show Daddy how much you want it.”

“Please… please  _ Daddy, _ want you so bad.”

  
  
Bruce groaned his own pleasure at his words against Clark’s ear as Clark pushed back against those fingers. Sinking onto them, taking them deep inside. 

Clark shuddered when he felt them curl against  _ that spot _ which sent tendrils of pleasure shooting through his dendrites and synapses. Every nerve ending in his whole body tingled and his cock twitched. The muscles of his hole clenched down, a moment, just a bit, before relaxing.

Wayne exhaled against his ear, breath warm against his flesh. “Can’t wait till I get my cock inside your tight ass, baby boy.”

“Oh God,” he’d nearly said Rao, but that would surely give away something and he didn’t want that. This was safer.

The billionaire chuckled against his ear, “I’ll take that as a compliment,” and then his teeth scraped along the chord of Clark’s neck down to his shoulder. Where the fabric of his shirt got in the way. That didn’t stop the man though from swiping his tongue back up the trail his teeth had made.

Clark made a sound of protest when he felt the loss of the man’s fingers. His long dark lashes fluttered to a close as he felt the head of Bruce Wayne’s huge cock against his hole.

The man had slicked himself up and worked Clark open like a two dollar whore. Not that he called them that, not that he was really treating him like that, but it still had Clark flushing anew.

His body trembled as he held onto the desk, his cock bumping against the middle drawer as the playboy slowly pushed into him.

“I’m not going to break, Daddy, so please, fuck me like ya mean it.”

With that spoken aloud, Bruce Wayne growled out an expletive and thrust forward, to the hilt inside Clark. His balls slapping against his as he drew back and thrust forward. Hard and fast.

  
  
Clark moaned with every motion, and shuddered each time the older male’s cock rubbed or hit against that secret spot inside him.

One of the man’s hands moved to Clark’s hair and his head was tugged back.

“Look, baby boy. Get a good long look at yourself. Being fucked from behind. Taking it like you were meant to.”

  
  
Clark couldn’t stop looking at himself, except his gaze was drawn to the wild eyed reflection of the man fucking into him.

His hair had lost its polished look. Strands of it had come loose from whatever had held it in place.

Wayne’s tongue rolled against the back of his upper teeth before the man gritted his teeth together.   
  
When the man let go of Clark’s hair, he grabbed him by the hips and thrust faster. Clark’s own body moved, but it was really Bruce Wayne that was controlling how fast, deep, and hard their thrusts were.

Just as Clark thought he was about to break the desk, Wayne grabbed him and lifted him up like earlier. Walked with him like that, if a bit awkwardly, around the desk. So that he could see in the mirror how Bruce Wayne’s cock was filling him.

Clark couldn’t look away as he moaned, mouth agape, eyes wide at the sight. His gaze lowered and he gulped, whole body shuddering in the arms of the strong human holding him.

He didn’t know how, perhaps Clark was subconsciously using his powers to make himself just a bit lighter for Wayne as the man lifted him and brought him back down. Impaling Clark’s ass over and over again with that long thick cock of his.

Clark still didn’t know how the man fit, even after all the stretching he’d done.

How was he ever going to get over this, because he didn’t see how he could go back to being a heterosexual man. Didn’t see how he could want anyone or anything but this man and what they’d shared this night at Luthor’s gala in this empty room.

“Pinch your nipples, stroke your cock,” the man,  _ Daddy,  _ whispered into his ear, voice raspy and deep, as he continued to lift Clark up and down on his prick with every inhalation and thrust.

“Yes, Daddy,” he moaned and moved his hands. Watching himself and Wayne in the mirror. Imprinting in his memory forever the way the billionaire’s cock entered his ass, stretching him wide with his girth as his own fingertips brushed over his nipples. He rolled, pinched, and plucked at one of his nipples as his other hand slowly caressed down over his abdomen to take hold of his own thick heavy dripping cock. The color having grown purple in the past few moments.

Clark’s hand reached his erection, where all his blood had rushed, where his veins expanded and formed ridges just beneath his flesh. His head tossed back as he let out a loud keening moan as he wrapped his hand around his errant arousal.   


  
“That’s it baby boy, stroke yourself. Come apart for Daddy.”

They were so close to the mirror now. He didn’t know how the man was still holding him up, nor how he’d walked with him over there. Because Clark hadn’t taken away all of his weight. Something was different about this billionaire playboy, something he couldn’t quite put his finger in. Not that he could think coherently with the man fucking him and making him moan and beg and plead with need.

Once his feet were settled back on the floor, he felt one of Wayne’s hands on his hip, grip tight. On anyone else he was sure it’d have left a bruise.  _ If only. _

  
  
His face pressed to the mirror, Bruce grunted with every snap of his hips.

  
  
“Cum, baby boy, cum for Daddy.”

He couldn’t hold it anymore. Even if the man hadn’t said the words, his balls ached as his body rocked back against the man balls deep inside his ass. His cock twitching and slapping against his abdomen and then against the mirror as Wayne thrust into him again. A whole body shudder went through Clark as he came, spurting ropes of cum all over the mirror in front of them.

He gasped as he felt the warmth of Bruce Wayne’s seed coating him inside. The man hadn’t had a condom and if he were human he’d be concerned about the possibility of catching some venereal disease, especially with the playboy reputation the billionaire had gained over the years in Gotham.

“You’ve been such a good boy for Daddy,” Wayne whispered heatedly against his ear.

Then man pulled out something from his own pocket and used it to wipe Clark’s cock clean.

  
  
“On your knees, boy, and clean up the mess you made with your tongue.”

Clark blinked.  _ What!? _

“You’re going to be good for me, aren’t you?”

He nodded his head, as the man’s now flaccid cock pulled out of him.

Clark’s face heated up as he felt the man’s cum leaking from his ass and dripping down his thighs. Of course the billionaire was there with his handkerchief again trying to clean him up even as Clark slid to his knees. He didn’t know why he couldn’t support himself in that moment as his hands pressed against the mirror on either side of the mess.

Staring at himself he pushed out his tongue and lapped up the bitter-salty taste of his own ejaculate.

He heard Wayne behind him, zipping himself back up. Clark figured he’d leave the room, but instead, he waited for him to get done licking up the mess on the mirror.

  
  
Clark couldn’t stop his face from getting red when the man smirked and grabbed onto a lock of his hair. 

“Such a pretty boy, being so good for Daddy.” The billionaire helped him up and then proceeded to straighten out Clark’s clothes until he looked somewhat presentable even with his glasses askew.

“Wish I’d cum on those glasses,” he winked and then pulled Clark into his arms and down onto his lap as he sat in the office chair at the empty desk.   


  
The man was petting his hand through his hair, lulling Clark into what was surely a false sense of security. His eyes even closed on a sigh.   


  
Moments later, Bruce stood up and placed Clark into the chair. “I’ve got to go, baby boy, but call me when you’re in Gotham and I’ll be sure to take care of you.”

Clark hummed as he felt a card being slipped into his front shirt pocket. Maybe it wasn’t a one-night stand.

**Author's Note:**

> Firondoiel, I'm hopin' ya got ta enjoy this.  
> I know someone else already made some gorgeous art for this prompt, as the host of the event told me so. But as I'd already written it before the host realized their blunder they said I could still post it for th' event. So's here ya go, ya lucky prompter you. It's also a fill in for the one that was supposed to be posted today. Things happen, so when I was asked if I could post it I was glad ta do it.


End file.
